in the case of a sexless/childless cybertronian universe
Thundercracker x Marissa IVF baby and Thundercracker passes the fuck out from sheer shock when the birth is happening. What could human childbirth have against millenia of robot war?
There is now a seeker sized dent in the floor
There is so much potential here for the process!!!
Funny how Thundercracker's seen so much and yet it's childbirth that gets him smh
(It's probably different since it involves Marissa though isn't it?)
What's a scene you've written that you're really proud of? What's a scene you're really looking forward to writing?
Aw, this is a fun question! Thanks, @jezifster
There are so many scenes that I love and am proud of, but there's one with Eckehart and Martin, in particular, that I go back and read sometimes. I even made a short comic like two years ago. (Part of the scene itself, and the accompanying comic, will be under the cut).
A scene I'm looking forward to writing... There are a few scenes at the end of the first book that set up for the sequel that are just so eerie and cool in my mind. It'll be fun to write those and try to get it just right, you know?
Background for the scene: 10 years prior to the start of the novel proper. Eckehart is new to his position as Schmidt & Foster CEO and everyone and their mom is looking at him like he's fresh meat. He does not trust Martin Hightower, his newly appointed public liaison, not to feed him to the wolves. Martin gives him a lesson in not being so damn loud about his self-righteousness.
“You must think I’m an idiot.”
“On the contrary. I find you uniquely intelligent. Abrasive, but not oafish. You’re receptive and idealistic. Sensitive.”
Eckehart couldn’t contain a sneer. “Convenient, for your purposes.”
Martin raised an eyebrow, his mask of professionalism cracking slightly. A smile was found beneath, amused. “I find it to be an asset, rather than a deficit. I'm often beholden to the less savory side of politics, but I don’t scoff at the idea of discretion paired with good intention. It’s quite charming. Easy to sell.”
“I’m not out to sell myself. Not to you, not to Belks, not to anybody.”
“No,” Martin said coolly. He cocked his head to the side. “No, you seem keen on making yourself a spectacle instead. You’d like to make sure that everyone in this building understands that you’re not like them, not beholden to the status quo.” He paused, fixing Eckehart with a candid eye. “I would advise that you keep your cards closer to your chest.”
Eckehart’s mouth fell open, momentarily flabbergasted. “I’m not playing this game,” he said, quiet, venomous.
“You’re making yourself a problem, Mr. Schmidt,” Martin said, tone neutral and unbothered. His eyes, however, held Eckehart’s with weight. “Problems that do not benefit men like Belks are quickly fixed, regardless of their status. You are in a fragile position, and lack allies. Make it clear that you are in opposition to powerful forces, then you invite them to take you off the board.”
A beat of pregnant silence hummed between them. The blue light emanating from CASS at the corner of his desk ensured that their words were being recorded. Martin knew this. Eckehart knew this.
“Is that a threat?” Eckehart asked. He spoke loudly, intentionally.
Martin eyed the CASS terminal, acknowledging its existence. He smiled. “No, it isn’t,” he replied. “It is advice. You may not care for the game, Mr. Schmidt, but you are playing it, regardless of how you feel.” Martin stood, taking his suit jacket from the back of the chair and folding it over his arm. “It would behoove you to learn the rules.”
Eckehart clenched and unclenched his fists at his side, unmoving. He imagined grabbing the man. It would be easy to knock his teeth in—a message to Belks, if a ham-handed one. What stopped him was resentful resignation. For now, Martin had spoken truth, however unpleasant and unwelcome it had been to hear. Sending his head of PR to the East End Med would be a strike against him, one more media headline for Belks to leverage.
Through tightened jaw, Eckehart said, “Advice noted.”
Martin began to turn on his heels toward the door but paused. When he turned back to Eckehart, his expression had softened, just slightly. He looked Eckehart up and down, a cataloguing that lasted a few seconds too long.
“This may be difficult to believe,” Martin said, “but my intention is to be your ally, Mr. Schmidt, not your enemy. Whatever suggestions I have are not meant to dissuade you. They are an earnest attempt to keep you sitting in this office.”
Eckehart could have laughed. He held it, barely, and snarled. “I’m not convinced.”
“I don’t expect you to be,” Martin said. “You are a discerning man who is well aware of his precarious position. It would be a bit disappointing if you handed off your trust so soon.” He bowed his head slightly, and winked. “I did say that I enjoy a challenge.”
So this isn’t really founded on anything, just a fun scene that could happen.
Volume ten of RWBY. We open on team CFVY in the middle of Vacuo. They are kicking ass and taking names, but the veritable horde of Grimm they’re fighting is endless. There’s one or two megagrimm in there. Coco openly acknowledges they’re likely to die, and to fail in their mission, but damn if they’re going to give up because they’re Huntsmen and Huntresses. It’s a somber moment...
...right up until out of friggin’ nowhere comes our main crew.
We’ve got Maria, who’s throwing off lines like “back in my day” and “you young whippersnappers” left and right while remote-controlling her weapons. We’ve got Winter, who’s clearly trying not to gripe about all the sand but she really does not like all the sand. We’ve got Penny, rebuilt and doing the blender casually. We’ve got Oscar, still a kid, throwin’ around magic like nobody’s business.
This is the first point where team CVFY’s all, ‘huh, wait, what?!’ And they only get more weirded out from there.
Because there’s also team JNPR, setting up a beachhead. And sure, okay, Ren and Nora are flirting and that makes sense. And Jaune becoming so completely badass is... strange, but not unbelievable. But Pyrrha... She’s here too, but she died, right? Pyrrha says yes, she did, it was very painful, she got better, long story, go into it later.
At this point Coco’s very confused, and it only gets weirder when team RWBY rides in on Weiss’s summons of winged Beringals. Beringals don’t have wings! And Yang’s got some crazy Dust tech in her arm--it has to be Dust, it can’t be magic, magic’s not real (but Pyrrha’s alive again and that kid is doing wizard stuff...?)--and Blake, wait, was she a faunus this whole time? Is that a new weapon? Oh look at her go!
And then there’s Ruby, who takes one look at the scene, and blasts the Grimm with a BURST OF LIGHT FROM HER EYES, and at this point Coco visibly gives up on trying to understand anything. Especially when a bird drops out of the sky and becomes a Branwen.
I just love it when characters get weirded out by protagonists, is what I’m saying.
